Chapter 7- Bedside Manners
It wasn't the most embarrassing thing I had ever experienced on the ship since my arrival; McCoy's 32 point inspection work over exam took the cake for that honor. However, seeing Jim and Spock standing between our beds at full attention with grim faces ran a pretty close second. They had been summoned by the fellow that diagnosed McCoy and I with mild traumatic brain injuries, or as we used to call them, concussions. The new vernacular of TBI had started to be more widely used around the time I left Earth and I never understood the need to make something sound more horrific than it really was. It made it seem like part of my brain had fallen out of a random orifice in my head when I hit the wall.
Jim and Spock listened intently as the fellow gave explicit instructions to our caretakers. Being hovered over by the nurses he supervised was just too much of an insult for McCoy and I didn't want to stay down there either, so it was agreed we could be discharged if our roommates agreed to take responsibility for us especially during the first 24 hours. I wasn't sure which of us was worse off: McCoy because his injury was just a bit more severe than mine due to his being the intended target and Jim's lackadaisical approach to just about everything he did, or me because I knew that like a tape recorder, Spock was cataloging every syllable that fell from the fellow's mouth with the intent of executing the list of instructions down to the letter without exception.
"It is important to wake them every 2 hours for the first 24. When you wake them, ask a question that they should know the answer to or have them count backwards for at least 30 seconds." The fellow said.
Jim looked over at McCoy with a smile. "This could be fun, Bones! I get to play trivial pursuit with you." He looked back to the fellow and asked, "What if he gets the question wrong? Do I get to keep asking until he gets one right?" He was clearly enjoying this way more than he should have been.
"It should be a question that he would know such as his full name, where he grew up, how to spell 'Mississippi', things like that. If he gets those wrong or seems confused, bring him back." She answered.
Jim seemed disappointed. "Damn. I was going to ask him questions from the sports section, he sucks at those. We could have been at that for hours."
"No we wouldn't." McCoy disagreed. "I would bang my head on the floor until grey matter leaked out my nose. I never want to hear you bitch about my bedside manner again, Jim. You suck."
The fellow smiled and continued. "It is absolutely vital that they not be allowed to take aspirin during this time. No matter how much they beg, do not let them. If they begin vomiting or complaining of visual disturbances, bring them back immediately."
"Why is that?" Jim inquired with a little more charm than the question required. He was obviously flirting with the female fellow and I would have rolled my eyes if it didn't hurt so much.
"Because aspirin masks the more serious symptoms of a head injury and vomiting and visual changes are classic signs of increasing intracranial pressure. If left unchecked, it will progress to seizures and death." I answered for her. Spock looked down at me and raised his eyebrow slightly. "This is closer to what I actually did on Earth, the head trauma stuff." I explained waving my hand nonchalantly. "Good old biology and physiology."
"After the first 24 hours, you can wake them up every six and just have them say a few things. After that they should be fine." She concluded.
Jim and Spock thanked her and McCoy and I sat up. My head was throbbing and it seemed like every noise was amplified by a magnitude of 10. I wondered if this was how Spock felt with his enhanced hearing. If that were so, he probably had a headache every day. Jim gently patted McCoy on the shoulder when he squinted and put his hand to his head. "Are you ok, Bones?" The tone of his voice was soft and full of genuine concern. "Christ, I haven't seen you look this bad since you took a chair to the head back in the Academy at Whiskey Pete's."
The memory seemed to make McCoy's agony worse, "No thanks to you. I was trying to get you out of that shithole of a dive bar in one piece and I almost did it until you gave one hell of a haymaker to that Andorian. Then the shit really hit the fan."
Jim smiled and defended himself. "He insulted the girl I was with! What was I supposed to do?"
McCoy squinted up at him long enough to ask, "You just picked her up 20 minutes before! What was her name?"
Jim looked at the floor and licked his lips in concentration. Finally he gave up and said, "Ah. Doesn't matter. It was a long time ago. Water under the bridge and all that."
McCoy scoffed. "Do you even remember what she looked like?"
Once more Jim thought about it until he laughed, "Not really, no."
"Well then. I am glad to see that it was all worth it including using my code to sneak into the clinic at 3am dripping blood from a 6 inch gash in my scalp." McCoy said bitterly.
Jim rolled his eyes and sighed, "It was only 4 and like it was the first time we ever snuck into the clinic after hours. By that time it was almost a weekend ritual. Besides, you have to admit that I did a pretty good job sealing it with the laser thingy even though it was my first time."
"Bullshit!" McCoy spat. "That was not the first time. Your mother had one and you told me you used it on yourself when you were a kid."
Jim glanced nervously at me. Head injury or not, I grasped that his mother was in Starfleet medical. Was she a doctor too? And why would he need to seal his own wounds as a child? Who was supposed to be taking care of him?
"C'mon, Bones. Let's get you to bed." Jim said quickly helping his friend up.
McCoy scowled and jerked his arm away. "Don't pander to me like I am some kind of invalid, kid. I don't need a walker just yet."
Jim looked back at me and grinned. I mouthed the words 'good luck' to him and he smiled wider and waved it off as though it were going to be no big deal. He followed closely behind McCoy, ready to steady him if he became dizzy and I found it endearing. As I watched him slowly and patiently trail the grumpy doctor, I wondered if he was just overconfident or if he had enough prior experience to be comfortable with his task. I smiled and speculated on the possibility that he had more medical knowledge than he let on, hiding yet another of his talents as he did so many others. He certainly was a tightly wrapped mystery that I found intriguing.
"Do you require mobility assistance, Doctor?" Spock asked politely.
I smiled and replied, "I think I can manage." Pandering indeed.
"As you wish, Doctor." He stated grabbing my elbow to steady me as I stood up. "However, it would not be physically taxing for me to carry you if necessary."
"Thanks, Spock, but I would rather not. I want to walk on my own." I answered trying my best not to reflect the nausea I felt as I stood up. "You know, you did seem to have superhuman strength."
"Indeed, Vulcans have greater grip and tensile strength than humans." He said rather dispassionately.
As we slowly made our way to the lift I asked, "Is there anything Vulcans do not do better than humans? You seem superior in every way, but it is starting to sound like Chekov going on about how invincible Russia is. At some point it just becomes ridiculous."
He paused in the hall where the Klingon lie on his back, mouth agape in a drug induced sleep. "Nothing comes to mind, Doctor, but I will let you know." He said slowly taking in the sight.
"He is going to be pissed when he wakes up." I chuckled. "McCoy totally disrespected him by knocking him out and leaving him in the hall for all his crewmates to see. Hardly an honorable defeat."
He looked back to me with just a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Dr. McCoy was responsible for this?"
"Yeah." I replied finally reaching the lifts. "That was the one that attacked us. K.O. by hypo- McCoy remains the undisputed champion of the special weapons category."
We entered the lift and he commanded it to go to 3. "Why were you and Dr. McCoy attacked? Was the Klingon provoked?"
"Yes and no." I sighed. "McCoy thinks that is the same one that he got into an argument with in sickbay the first day they came. I don't think he was after me, McCoy and I were pretty close together when he attacked, so I was just a bonus." I saw the corners of his mouth curl again, but I was too disoriented to care.
When we arrived at his quarters, he stated, "You will rest in my bed for the remainder of the time we are to share and I will rest on the floor."
"No, Spock!" I protested. "It is your room, I can't take your bed from you. I will be fine on the floor."
He stood at attention and used a slightly harsher tone. "You are not taking anything from me, Doctor, I am offering it to you. And as it is indeed my quarters, the bed is mine to give. It is the only logical arrangement given recent developments. I will wait outside while you change into your sleeping clothes. Dancing bears, perhaps?" He teased with a wicked glint in his eye. I had forgotten about the night he came to my room to talk to me about his breakup with Uhura. Apparently my funny pajamas made a lasting impression on him.
I changed into a pair of plain blue pajamas and reluctantly climbed into his bed. After a few more minutes, he returned and stood by the side of the bed with his hands behind his back like a father putting his child to bed. "I will return in exactly two hours to awaken and query you as instructed."
"I will probably be awake." I mumbled. He raised an eyebrow and I explained. "I know this is illogical to you, but I have a hard time sleeping in other people's beds. It has nothing to do with you per se, it just feels like I am invading your personal space."
He continued to look at me with his dark eyes, but they weren't as hard as they usually were. "That is indeed illogical. However, not uncommon to your species. My roommate at the Academy often had difficulty sleeping, but he found he could when I practiced my lute. Humans tend to find the tone of a Vulcan lute to be soothing. Shall I play for you?"
A warm smile spread across my face at his generous offer. "Please." I whispered in anticipation. I was finding that members of the crew had many hidden talents today. He removed a highly stylized instrument from under the bed that was a little larger than a violin and sat in his desk chair to prepare to play. The first notes he drew from the lute were almost ethereal as they slowly drifted and filled the room with a sweet, yet somber sound. I was immediately entranced by the melodic notes that flowed from his fingers with such apparent ease it seemed effortless.
I had always been in love with music, it moved my soul in a way nothing else ever could. For me, music was not heard but felt. The tune he played evoked a bittersweet sadness that spoke of great loss and mourning but yet was hopeful for a better future and it left me breathless and aching. I closed my eyes and became absorbed in the soft tide of complex melodies that swirled around me until the last note faded away. I slowly opened my eyes and breathed, "That was beautiful, Spock."
He graciously accepted the compliment with a small nod and asked, "Shall I play more?"
"Yes!" I smiled lazily. He obliged and I listened until my mind drifted off into a peaceful sleep carried by a gentle flow of harmony.
